


11th Doctor Regeneration Scene, Alternate Version

by betawho



Series: Revised Episodes [4]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Regeneration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 15:38:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1108570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betawho/pseuds/betawho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rewrite of the 11th to 12th Doctor regeneration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	11th Doctor Regeneration Scene, Alternate Version

**Author's Note:**

> I just thought the regeneration itself was too abrupt. 11 deserves a better sendoff, and 12 deserves a better intro than looking like he's about to attack Clara. And we deserved to see the regeneration itself.
> 
> With this being the end of the Doctor's original 12 regeneration lifecycle, and the beginning of a whole new lifecycle, I thought we should at least get to actually _see_ the regeneration.

There was a line of shed clothing leading across the Tardis. "Doctor?" Clara called. She couldn't see him anywhere.

There were footsteps, slow, measured, her heart clenched in dread.

He strode up the stairs, young again. Back in his regular clothes. Her heart leapt. She rushed forward. "You're young again. You're okay. You didn't even change your face."

He smiled at her wistfully, that tired, old/young smile that could so easily break her heart. She felt her heart stuttering. Something was wrong.

"It's started," he said - breaking her heart. "I can hold it off for a little, reset a bit first, but I can't stop it," he said, seeing her horrified head shake. He slowly went over and started the Tardis in motion. His time at Christmas was done.

"I don't want you to go!" she said, rushing forward, hugging him desperately.

"Hey, hey! Here now," he set her back and looked into her ravaged face. "I'm not going anywhere," he said softly, with the patience of an old man.

"I don't want you to change," she said, eyes bloodshot, crying.

He tilted his head down toward her, cajoling. "I'll still be me. Just a bit different."

"Why do you have to change? Why can't you just stay like this?" she demanded.

He smiled. "Things didn't work out so well last time I tried that. It's okay," he laid a hand on her cheek. "This is part of my natural life cycle." He smiled wryly, tired. "Or at least my _new_ one."

"Will you know me?" she asked, revealing her greatest fear. "All those other lives, you never knew me."

She clutched at his hand on her cheek, as if she was trying to keep him with her.

"Oh, Clara." He laid his forehead on hers briefly. He smiled at her wistfully. "Of course I'll remember you. I'm only changing my face, not my friends."

His hand started glowing against her cheek. He pulled back, pulled away. She stretched out her hand, not wanting to let him go.

"Please. Don't," she cried.

"Everything changes, Clara. This body has had a good long life." He started to glow golden. "It's time to try something new." The glow intensified, his face starting to shine.

She stared at him and shook her head.

"Remember this silly old face, Clara. It was one of my favorites." The glow exploded, forcing his head back, his arms out, energy poured out of his hands, his head, everywhere. His whole body stretched out, rigid.

"Doctor!" she screamed.

And in the midst of that savage, straining energy, he turned his head down to her, looked at her with those deep, sad, ancient eyes, and smiled.

That perfect beatific smile that said everything was okay, everything was wonderful.

Then he relaxed. His smile melted away, along with that dear wonderful face, his arms came down, the glow flowed down off of him and washed away.

And a new man stepped forward and caught his balance.

"Doctor?" she asked nervously, unsure.

He looked up at her, a completely different face, a new man, lean, wiry, wrinkled, with tight silvery curls and silver eyes.

"I think so? Are you okay?" he asked.

"Am _I_ okay?" she demanded incredulously.

The Tardis suddenly lurched, almost throwing them both off their feet. He reeled around and reached for the console, flipping some controls. The Tardis continued to careen, tossing them back and forth, making distressed whining noises.

"I should know better than to take off at times like this," he said to no one in particular. He reached for more controls, randomly flipping switches and grabbing onto the console for balance. "She _hates_ it when I regenerate!"

"What's happening?" Clara yelled over the noise.

"We're crashing! Better hold onto something!"

They rattled and banged and flipped completely over. He grabbed for the controls again, but was obviously having no luck. He looked confused, then frustrated. "Just one question!" he yelled over the noise of screaming machinery.

He looked at her helplessly. "Can you fly this thing?!"

—

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